


Show Time

by deathgurgle



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:30:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathgurgle/pseuds/deathgurgle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the big day, you know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show Time

“It’s the big day, you know,” Jim says, suit smooth –hair smoother, and Sebastian nods, replies, “I know.”

“Everything is going to go accordingly.” He cracks his neck, sound familiar, and rocks back on his heels, admires his sniper with a smirk on his lips and fire in his eyes.

“Your plans always do, you know that you egotistical prick.” The smirk widens by a fraction and Sebastian sees the slap coming, doesn’t even flinch when Jim’s hand connects with his cheek, skin stinging while it turns a harsh pink, much too hard to be considered anywhere near playful.

“Yes darling,” he says, stretching his fingers out, palm burning and it hurts but it doesn’t, “I’m just making sure you’re aware.”

Everything inside James Moriarty burns and he needs to spread it just so everyone else will feel the heat, and Sebastian is the fan to spread the flames, make them billow, keep them from turning into cinders. Everything is perfect and nothing is, he has the world in his hand and yet he doesn’t, a contradiction that only he understands, but that’s alright because no one else ought to, everyone else is boring –ordinary, pedestrian, simple, stupid –and other twenty-five cent words, and even Sebastian doesn’t quite understand it, not really, but he’s special, and Jim tells him he is, and he believes it –believes him.

“Now, we’re going over what you’re to do again, tell me exactly what it is you get to do,” says Jim, and his voice is cheery as if he wasn’t annoyed by the eighth –ninth –tenth time heard Sebastian rattle off what he told him to do, delighted by just the sound of his own words being echoed by his second in command with such exasperation, “I don’t want to hear a whine in your voice. Chin up, dear, I’m sure you’ll say it perfectly this time, and don’t pout, it makes you ever so unattractive.”

Sebastian sighs, says, “I go to the building opposite, fifth floor up, and use the window as my place. I watch the doc ‘til Holmes jumps and if he don’t, I shoot him, yeah?” And Jim sighs, rolls his eyes, runs a hand over his hair, and rotates the other signaling for him to go on, and he does, says, “And I meet you at Conduit Street an hour later, no sooner and no later.”

He claps his hands together, doesn’t even make Seb blink, says, “Finally the man gets it, can we get a round of applause? Now, there’s a detail I’ve left out. If Sherlock believes he truly has me and refuses to jump, I’ll need to take a… precautionary measure.” And Sebastian narrows his eyes, locked on Jim’s face. “I’ll be needing your pistol, actually. I promise not to dirty it too much, dear.”

And he fishes it from his shoulder holster, hands it over, eyes still locked on him, and he crosses his arms, asks, “You’re not planning to do what I think you are, are you?”

Jim shrugs, smiles, takes the gun, slips it into the inside breast pocket of his two thousand pound frock coat because he’d hate to spoil the lines of his suit, says, “I cannot read minds, despite the lovely rumors, so you’ll have to tell me what you’re thinking I’m going to do.” And Seb laughs, short and curt, wets his lips, says, “I think you’re planning to eat a bullet if the bastard doesn’t jump.”

Jim’s smiles drops and he nods once, pursing his lips, and the smile is back in a blink, and he says, simply, “Yes.”

But Sebastian doesn’t say anything, not at first anyway, and he nods a few times, slowly, and finally says, “I see.”

The clock tolls and it’s time to play, or at least that’s how Jim sees it, always did, and he cracks his knuckles, smiles wide, wider, says, “Show time,” and he grabs Seb’s hand, pulls, and drags him outside, walks all the way to the back of the hospital with his hand still firmly in his own, Sebastian tendons pulling taut.

He releases him and with one hand on the fire escape pulled down, he turns his back, turns around one last time, blows a kiss, but Sebastian catches his arm, pulls him back, says, “I love you,” more of a hiss than anything.

Jim considers his words, head tilting back and forth, weighing them, and he looks up at him, eyes burning hot, Sebastian’s hotter, says, “Yes, I love you too,” and Sebastian shoves him away towards the fire escape, chokes out a laughs, bitter, says, “No… you don’t.”


End file.
